


Heliomancy

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_smoochfest, First Time, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-19
Updated: 2010-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-12 00:27:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A teasing mirror that came from Grimmauld Place and the emphasis on inter-house relations during his eighth year at Hogwarts change everything for Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heliomancy

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Notes:** Many thanks to my beta, Angela, for doing her usual wonderful job of not only catching my goofs, but keeping me writing. Any errors you may see are not her fault. The title comes from a combination of Heliography, communication through mirrors, and Catoptromancy, divination using a mirror.
> 
> Written as a pinch-hit for [HD Smoochfest, Prompt 124](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_smoochfest/46318.html) (link goes to original entry at comm, which includes the prompt for the curious).

" _Out! Out! Half-breed! Foul child of a traitorous father! Out of my house!_ "

Slamming the front door of Grimmauld Place behind him, Harry leant against the wall and waited for a pause in Mrs Black's tirade. At the first opportunity, he announced, "He's dead."

"Filth on my... _What?_ "

"Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, the half-blood leader of your pure-blood cause is _dead_." Harry spat the last word at her.

She stared at him from her portrait. Her mouth worked for a few seconds before she whispered, "Tommy's dead?"

"Along with far too many other people, including most of your family and all of mine." He slammed his fist against the wall behind him, using the pain to fight the prickling in his eyes. "Bastard."

"Dead," she repeated and began to keen.

Her wailing rose higher and higher. Harry stuffed his fingers in his ears then immediately regretted it. Getting to his wand to cast _Muffliato_ would require him to unblock his ear. Squeezing his eyes shut and clamping his hands more tightly over his ears, he stumbled away.

Once up the stairs, he retreated into the drawing room. It took him two tries, but eventually he got a decent Silencing Spell up.

Like most of the rest of the house, the room was an absolute disaster. The glass in the cabinets had been shattered, and their contents strewn all over the floor. Some of the more delicate pieces looked as if they'd been ground into the carpet. Others seemed to glower and promise a painful hexing to anyone who dared to touch them. The writing desk had been upended, and the curtains torn down. Only the tapestries were intact.

A glimmer of light on the most current tapestry caught Harry's attention. Keeping his wand at the ready, he stepped closer. Thin, new branches were budding and curling into growth out of the charred circles that represented Sirius and Andromeda. Their portraits were flickering in and out, occasionally visible through the burnt spots.

"Come on," Harry urged. "Come on."

When it finally happened, when the tapestry gave in to Harry's pleading, the pain was almost too much. Sirius shone in brilliant colour for an all-too-brief moment and then his face faded and gained the whitened, skull-like appearance of the other dead Blacks on the tapestry.

Something broke inside Harry. He swished his wand in a sharp arc and began to throw curses, hexes, and jinxes at the tapestries, the furniture, the walls, the carpets, and the doxy-infested nest of shredded curtains.

Eventually, sweat stinging his eyes, Harry collapsed to the floor. " _Toujours Pur_ my arse," he snarled at the tapestry and its fucking Blacks and their fucking smirks. "More like toujours _dead_. It's over. It's done. For the whole bloody lot of you. I hope you're happy. Kept yourselves so high-and-mighty pure that there'll be—" his voice rose to a scream "— _no more Blacks_."

A shocked silence followed his last three words, and then the house creaked and groaned. A crackling noise ran across the ceiling and down the wall in front of him. The tapestry split in half, and the wall swung open.

Harry sat and stared. His mouth hung open just a little before he snapped it shut.

Behind the wall was a deep cupboard. Each of the three walls was shelved from floor to ceiling. One was crammed with books. The second was stuffed full of parchment scrolls. The third held an odd collection of objects that could only be Black family heirlooms.

Scrambling to his feet, he approached the cupboard. A Revealing Charm caused all of the books and scrolls and most of the objects to shimmer red, black, or yellow. He examined everything as best he could from a couple of feet away — not quite what Hermione would have described as a safe distance, but Harry was convinced nothing in this odd cupboard would harm him.

He dismissed the neat stacks of knives, swords, and wand boxes on the bottom shelves immediately. The next two shelves held an assortment of jewellery and carved boxes. Again, nothing he cared about. In the end, only one item interested him: a square mirror on the top shelf.

In contrast to everything else, the mirror stood upright. His third Curse Detection Spell revealed a faint green glow over the glass and a darker one over the frame. _Nothing dangerous, then_. Not to him, at least.

Then a grey eye blinked open in the centre of the mirror and gave him a slow, lazy wink.

o0O0o

The mirror was a tease. Harry decided that after the first couple of days. Sometimes he'd see nothing at all, as if the mirror were reflecting a plain white wall. Other times, the best of times, he'd see a flash of someone — fingers, feet, a bicep, once even the edge of a cheekbone — but never quite enough to identify whoever it was.

It got so that Harry took it everywhere with him, glancing in it constantly, not wanting to miss the one time it showed him an entire person. He bought a second Mokeskin pouch, not wanting to store it with his other possessions, and an expandable rucksack to carry everything.

And, two weeks later, when the Weasleys called at Grimmauld Place to take him to King's Cross, he took it with him.

o0O0o

"And you brought it?" Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, Harry, I don't know what you're thinking most of the time. Haven't you had enough of cursed objects by now?"

"It's perfectly safe. I tested it myself." As Hermione levitated it further away, Harry saw a flash of pale skin in its glass. He wanted to yell, _Why now?_ at the mirror, but she was already suspicious enough. It would have to wait until he was alone, after he'd got it back from her.

"She's gone?" Ron repeated for the umpteenth time. "Just like that." He snapped his fingers, drawing Hermione's attention to him. "I can't believe it."

"You want to go back to Grimmauld Place and check for yourself?" A flick of Harry's wand brought the mirror sailing back to him, but the glass was white once again. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind stopping the train to let you off."

"It's not that I don't believe you, mate," Ron said. "It's just bloody unbelievable. She just up and immolated herself, right inside her portrait. After everything she put us through."

Harry released a bitter sigh. "Yeah. All it took was the destruction of Voldemort and the deaths of her entire family."

The words cut through Ron's shock. Grief returned to haunt his eyes, making him look older as it had throughout the summer. He muttered, almost to himself, "Hard on a mother, that."

Then, before Harry or Hermione could come up with any way to respond, Ron changed the subject. "So, what's with the mirror then?"

With more relief that he could acknowledge, even to himself, Harry retold the story of how he'd found the mirror. As Hermione and Ron examined it again, he asked, "So, you don't see anything in it?"

Ron finger-combed his hair. "Just a handsome ginger lad." Then he yelped when Hermione punched his arm.

"You tested it?" she asked Harry.

"For everything,' he reassured her. "It's not cursed, it's not inherently dark, and it's not a Horcrux."

"All right," she said, and handed the mirror back to him. "As long as tell me if you suspect anything."

"You'll be the first one to know."

Grinning at them, Ron shifted closer to Hermione and slung an arm over her shoulders. "We trust you, mate."

"What do you—"

The rest of Hermione's question was drowned out by a loud hoot, as the Hogwarts Express warned of its approach to Hogsmeade Station. The sound started her scrambling to get into her school robes and muttering about time and books and reading and NEWTs.

The familiarity of her response and the banging and yelling that came from the compartments around them brought a smile to Harry's face as he carefully sealed the mirror into its pouch and tucked it away in the inner pocket of his expandable rucksack.

Slinging his rucksack over one shoulder, he opened the compartment door and merged into the crowd heading for the exit. With Ron and Hermione arguing a few steps behind him and Malfoy pratting around up ahead, he finally felt as if he was going back to Hogwarts.

o0O0o

In the minutes after everyone was settled at the house tables and before the first years were led in for Sorting, the Great Hall was unusually quiet. Harry could hear whispers and rumbles of noise, but no one spoke aloud.

The ceiling still showed the dark sky from outside, the moon and stars being hidden and revealed as a brisk wind sent clouds scudding around. The house tables still stretched from one end to the other. House banners still hung from the ceiling, hiding some of the scars and scorch marks that still remained. However, the teachers' table was longer, arcing around that end of the hall, and held at least twice as many people as before. A portrait of Dumbledore hung in the centre of the wall behind it.

Unwilling to face Dumbledore's smile, Harry bit his lip and tried to distract himself with Seamus and Lavender's discussion about where they'd all be staying.

"Five Sickles will get you in," Seamus was saying. He ran a stubby pencil down a scrap of paper. "Winner takes all."

"And if no one gets it right?" Lavender asked.

"Well, then, we'll just put the money towards the first Gryffindor house party of the year." Seamus grinned. "We're all of age now, after all."

"Put me down for Gryffindor Tower." Neville tossed a few coins at Seamus. "No reason why Hogwarts can't grow an extra floor."

"Interhouse relations," Parvati said, sliding her own bet across the table. "We'll have to share a new dorm with the eighth years in other houses."

Seamus consulted his notations again. "Tower or not?"

"Not. They'll have us in a suite of rooms that's separate from the regular house dorms."

 _Share with the other eighth years_. The thought sent Harry's gaze skittering over to the Slytherin table. Malfoy and Zabini had their heads together, and Parkinson was smirking at the both of them. _Situation normal_ , he tried to tell himself.

But it wasn't. A much thinner Goyle was sitting there like a stolid lump, staring at his plate and paying no attention to the sweets piled upon it. Parkinson's eyes were constantly darting around the room in every direction except Harry's. Zabini's shoulders were hunched almost to his ears and Malfoy... _what the hell?_

Harry was about to go over there and demand to know why Malfoy had a bandage on his left hand when he was elbowed in the side. "Don't—" He bit the word off when he saw Ginny sitting next to him.

"I didn't see you on the train," she said.

"I was with Ron and Hermione." He could feel his cheeks heating with remembered embarrassment. "Things got a bit weird on the platform, so we put protection charms on the compartment door."

He looked back over at the Slytherin table, and she elbowed him again. "Ow!"

"Just making sure you're all right."

Feeling as if he was missing something obvious, he asked, "By bruising me?"

"If that's what it takes." She picked up a knife and began fidgeting with it. "I'm glad you came this year. I... Neville—"

"You and Neville," Harry said, taking the knife from her and putting it down on the table, "should do your best to be happy and stop worrying about me and the rubbish the _Prophet_ prints. You haven't—" he made air quotes "— _abandoned me in my hour of need_."

Ginny gave him a tremulous smile. He nudged her with his shoulder.

"Hey, it wasn't the _Prophet_ picking me up off the floor all through June, was it?"

"I thought Molly was going to have you committed," Neville put in from across the table, startling Harry. "Especially that morning after Ron and Hermione went to Australia when she came downstairs to find you passed out on the kitchen table, cuddling her clock."

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione interjected. "You didn't?"

"Oh, he did," said Ginny. "Mum still can't figure out how he broke through her Protection and Sticking Charms and got it off the wall. We've all been trying to manage that for years."

A smile on his face, Harry sat back and listened to his friends laugh and joke and tell stories. Maybe a last year at Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad after all.

o0O0o

"Potter?" Malfoy's upper lip curled. "Of course, _Perfect Potter_ should get his own room."

"Well, someone has to," Ron said, belligerently. "Why shouldn't it be Harry?"

"Maybe I don't want one?" Harry said, hoping he wasn't as red as he felt. Between the mirror and his still too-frequent nightmares, he wouldn't have minded a room of his own but he'd rather not have everyone resenting him for it.

"There are three single rooms, so it won't just be Harry who gets one." Hannah spoke up from the sofa where she was huddled with Padma and Parvati. "Maybe we should draw straws."

"And who do we all trust enough to handle the straws?" asked Zabini.

"There'll be no need for straws," Professor Vector said, as she walked through the door carrying a basket. "Your names will be withdrawn from this basket, and you will share with whoever you are assigned no matter which house they're in. Unofficial reassignments will be dealt with immediately. Any questions?" She set the basket on the table closest to the door and stood next to it, staring down her nose at them. "I thought not."

After a brief pause when no one moved or said anything, she said, "Well, come on. I don't have all night." She gave the basket a tap of her wand and began to snap out names, "Brocklehurst with Greengrass. Brown with Parkinson. Granger with Patil, Padma."

And on she went, first through the girls and then moving onto the boys. With all of the matches being across houses, Harry quickly became convinced that he'd be matched with Malfoy. So, when Vector called out, "Goyle, Potter," he was surprised.

Ron said, "Goyle?" at the same time Malfoy objected with, "You can't—"

"It's done." Vector's tone made it clear that she would not brook any arguments. "Mr Goyle, Mr Potter, please come up here and get your room assignment."

Grabbing his rucksack, Harry went over to where Goyle was sitting. He could feel Malfoy's glare as a weight on his shoulders as he held out his hand to Goyle. "Come on. Let's go get ourselves sorted."

o0O0o

The hand in the mirror that night seemed malevolent. Its every move was violent, clenching into a fist, making a dismissive gesture that was like slapping the air. And yet, it was also graceful and elegant. The nails had been properly shaped, unlike Harry's own well-bitten ones.

It was mesmerising. Harry fell asleep to the sweep of that hand, not realising that Goyle had come back to their room until he woke up the next morning.

o0O0o

Harry stared at the class schedule that Vector had handed him: Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, and Potions. When the owl had come from Hogwarts, he'd automatically enrolled in the same classes that he'd taken in sixth year. But sitting there and staring at a schedule that included double Potions that afternoon, it all felt so different, so final.

He glanced at the staff table. Slughorn favoured him with one of his oiliest and most ingratiating smiles, and a shudder went down Harry's back.

 _It'll mean giving up the Aurors_ , he told himself. The sense of relief that came from just thinking that was as unexpected as it was enormous. "But if I'm not an Auror," he murmured, "what am I?"

"Mental apparently. If the whole 'talking to yourself' thing is anything to go by." Ron laughed.

"You can't drop Potions." Hermione sounded horrified. "That would only give you four NEWTs. That's hardly enough for anything."

"Oi," Ron objected. "What's wrong with—"

"I wasn't talking about you, Ron. Harry's already decided not to continue with two of his NEWT-eligible classes." She turned to Harry, a light in her eyes that worried him. "There are all sorts of things you can do if you have a NEWT in Potions, not just become an Auror. Do you really want to throw them all away?"

"It was just a thought," Harry said, feeling defensive. "I don't feeling like dealing with... you know." He directed a shrug at Slughorn.

"We should have Snape back." Hermione scowled. "It's not fair that they won't let him teach."

Ron heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Do we have to go through that again?"

"Well, it's not."

"We know, Hermione." Harry rolled up his schedule and stood up. "But in the meantime we're stuck dealing with Slughorn and whichever incompetent they've got teaching DADA this year."

"I can take a Potions NEWT any time, if I decide I need one." Harry realised as he said the words that they were true. "But not with him and not this year. I'm going to talk with Vector."

o0O0o

"I'm not saying that Professor Andrescu is as bad as some of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers we've had," Harry explained. "I just think it would be great to have something like the Duelling Club or the DA as an after school club."

"Why come to me?" Vector asked. "Surely, Professor Andrescu would be a more appropriate sponsor for a Defence club."

"But he wasn't here last year or the year before. He can't understand why we know some spells like the back of our hands, or why some of us can't stop shaking long enough to cast what should be a simple spell."

"And you think I do?"

"When I asked Professor McGonagall why she'd made you Head for the eighth years, she said you were as close to a neutral teacher that she had and that she could trust you to look after the students from all of the houses, including the Slytherins."

Vector was silent for a moment before giving him a decisive nod. "I won't support another Gryffindor Trio club. You'll need an eighth year from each house. I'll meet with all of you on Thursday night at seven o'clock sharp."

When Harry got to the door of her office, she added, "Be careful who you pick, Potter. I won't hesitate to change my mind if you don't choose wisely."

Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were easy. Harry got Padma's agreement during Charms and Hannah's in the common room after dinner. Slytherin, though, he avoided. He didn't even want to think about his options with that lot.

o0O0o

Just before lunch the next day, the mirror showed him an ear. Harry found himself tracing the whorls and cartilage, wondering about how it appeared to be almost lobe-less, and lingering over the tiny emerald piercing high in the cartilage that was almost hidden by the pale blond hair.

"Malfoy?" He clamped his lips together on the name, but there was no one else in the room to hear him. "Well, your mother's a Black and you're on the tapestry, which means you're considered a Black. So it shouldn't be a surprise that I can see you in a Black family mirror. But why you?"

His mind spinning over the possibilities, he stared at the ear and the strands of hair that brushed it every time Malfoy moved his head.

o0O0o

Thursday was a half-day for most of the eighth years. Harry's plan to grab his broom and spend the afternoon flying until he had an answer to the Slytherin conundrum was derailed by hail and thunder. Instead, he flopped down on the floor and rested his back against the sofa where Ron and Hermione were sitting.

Ignoring their conversation with Seamus and Lavender, Harry toyed with his wand and contemplated the Slytherins. He'd already discarded Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Goyle as possibilities, which left him with Greengrass, Zabini, and Malfoy.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, sitting down on the sofa next to Ron. "You're still obsessed with him, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Malfoy. Who else?"

"I wasn't—"

"Wankers, the lot of them," Seamus interrupted Harry. "You'd think last year hadn't happened, the way they carry on."

Before Harry could say anything, Ron said, "That's the point, isn't it? Giving everyone a chance to start over. That's why we all agreed to help keep them out of Azkaban."

"That doesn't mean—"

"You testified, Seamus." Lavender patted his hand. "You convinced me that it was the right thing to do."

"I just..." Seamus trailed off when Lavender smiled at him. "I didn't realise it would be so hard."

"Nothing easy is ever worth it," Hermione added.

"Right." Harry pushed himself to his feet. He pulled on the bottom hem of his jumper to straighten it, shoved his wand into the holster that ran down the outside seam of his jeans, and repeated, "Right." Then he walked over to the Slytherins.

"Malfoy," he said by way of greeting. "You got a minute?"

After sweeping his gaze over Harry, Malfoy asked, "Roommate problems already, Potter?"

Looking even more miserable than he had all week, Goyle seemed to be trying to squeeze himself into the corner of the sofa.

"No complaints from me. Goyle's the quietest roommate I've had in years." The shock on Goyle's face made Harry smile at him.

"Unlike Thomas, whose snores could wake Inferi." Zabini snorted. "Explains a lot, really."

Malfoy eyed Harry suspiciously. "What brings you and your sleep-refreshed mind over here?"

"Well." His heart beating faster, Harry dragged a hand through his hair and tried not to look as nervous as he felt. "I wanted to ask you something."

"The Boy Who Lived to Save the Known Universe has a question for me?" Malfoy clapped a hand over his heart, drawing Harry's attention to that familiar, expressive hand. "I quiver in anticipation of your pleasure."

The other Slytherins snickered, distracting Harry from Malfoy's hand and jaw and all of the parts that he'd watched in the mirror, and that was when Harry noticed that the rest of the room was quiet enough that everyone could hear what they were saying.

Apparently coming to the same conclusion, Malfoy rose gracefully to his feet and gestured towards the door. "Shall we, Potter? I'd hate to shatter your image by forcing everyone to watch you stutter your way through whatever it is."

Objections and people calling out their names followed them out the door. They didn't speak as they walked through the castle, down the stairs, and out the front doors.

A cold gust swirled Harry's robes around and sent cold drizzle dripping down his neck. He cast Warming Charms and Water Repellent Charms on himself and his clothes as they walked down the steps. Malfoy was clearly doing the same.

When they reached a spot near the lake that was sheltered on three sides by rocks and trees, Malfoy stopped and turned to him. "All right, Potter. If you're going to humiliate me, now would be the time to do it."

"Not the plan." Harry grinned at him. "But I'll remember the offer in the future."

"Consider the offer withdrawn." His humour clearly gone, Malfoy wrapped his arms around his torso and stared at the waves that the wind was whipping up on the lake. "What do you want?"

Shoving his hands into his pockets — all the better not to try and expose that earring — Harry moved to stand next to him. "Your help."

Malfoy gave him an incredulous look. "My help?"

"I want to start an extra-curricular club. Something to give the upper years a bit of confidence back in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"You think they'll let _me_ in that club. I know you weren't here last year, Potter, but you must have heard the stories."

"I have." Harry shrugged. "I don't care, and neither does Vector."

"Vector? What's she got to do with this?"

"We need a staff sponsor, and she insists that we have four people running it. One from each house. I've got Padma Patil from Ravenclaw and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, in addition to myself."

"And I'm your token Slytherin," said Malfoy, sounding defeated.

"No," Harry corrected him. "You're not a token. I expect you to work as hard as the rest of us."

"Do I have a choice?" Malfoy sighed. "Of course, I'll do it."

"Not if you're bringing that attitude. I can always ask Bulstrode. She's pretty good at Defence, and she won't let anyone walk all over her." He started to walk away. He made it five steps further than he thought before Malfoy stopped him.

"Potter!"

Harry turned around, only to find Malfoy directly behind him. "What?"

"You weren't here that last year."

"I still know everything you did, here and at the Manor. What I didn't see for myself, I've heard about from those who did, and I _know_ how you felt about it." Harry took a step towards Malfoy.

Stepping back, Malfoy shook his head.

"We all did things we're not proud of. Every last one of us," Harry said softly. "You're not the only one who cast Unforgivables, you know. Lots of us did, on both sides. If they prosecuted you for that, they'd have had to charge me as well."

Malfoy barked a laugh. "Merlin, Potter. I'd have paid to see you tell them that."

"Yeah, it went over about as well as you think." Harry grinned at him. "So," he said, holding out his hand, "you want another chance to throw hexes at me?"

"If you insist." Malfoy smirked at him and then shook his hand.

o0O0o

That night, the mirror lingered on the hollow of Malfoy's throat and the curve of his left clavicle. Malfoy's throat worked as he talked or swallowed or...

Harry's thoughts stuttered to a halt and he almost dropped the mirror when it panned down to show him Malfoy's fingers pinching his own nipple. "Fuck, Malfoy," he whispered. "What are you doing?"

 _What am I doing?_ The thought ran through him even as he shifted his hips and reached a hand down to press on his hardening cock through his pyjamas. "This is Malfoy," he hissed at his cock, which twitched obligingly.

Harry groaned, and then groaned again when the reflection started moving downwards, following Malfoy's hand. There was pale skin and then an indented navel that made Harry lick his lips. He caught a glimpse of a faint trail of white blond hair.

o0O0o

A muffled cry startled Harry into dropping the mirror. His erection softened immediately. Grabbing his wand from under his pillow, Harry rolled off the bed, ducking beneath his closed curtains and headed for Goyle's bed. There was a thud behind him as something fell to the floor, but Harry ignored it.

Sweat was running down Goyle's face. He was thrashing around and mumbling words that didn't make any sense to Harry. He touched Goyle's shoulder and then scooted backwards as fast as he could when Goyle's eyes opened and he sat up.

"Potter?" Goyle rubbed his eyes. "Did I... sorry."

"You were having a nightmare." Harry settled himself against a bedpost.

"Forgot to ask Draco to do a Silencing Spell. Sorry. Won't happen again."

"The nightmares will," Harry said. Then, when Goyle frowned in confusion, he added, "Happen again, that is."

"S'pose you'd know."

"Yeah."

Goyle blinked at him, clearly expecting something more. Harry was still working out what else he could say — not wanting to talk about his own bad dreams — when the door to their room burst open.

Raising his wand and glad to see that Goyle grabbed his own from under his pillow, Harry turned to face the intruders. Ron and Malfoy were jockeying for position at the door with Zabini and Hermione and some others barely visible behind them.

"Took you long enough," Harry commented, lowering his wand. "If we'd really been in trouble, one of us might be dead right now.

"I was busy," Ron blurted out.

"Good thing you weren't dead then, isn't it?" Malfoy tightened the belt on his green silk dressing gown, drawing Harry's attention to his hands and then up to the triangle of exposed skin and the hollow of his throat.

Harry swallowed and drew his legs up to hide evidence of his returning arousal. _Focus on Goyle_ , he thought, and tried to come up with something that would get them all out of the room.

Luckily, Hermione took over, chivvying them all away. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind them, then just about fell off Goyle's bed in shock when Malfoy spoke from behind him.

"You dropped something, Potter."

Turning around, dread pooling in his stomach, Harry saw Malfoy standing between their beds, looking down at his mirror. Before Malfoy could move, Harry rolled off the bed and snatched it up.

One of Malfoy's eyebrows rose. He looked as if he were going to made a rude comment, but then he just shook his head. "Primping before bed, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's me. Always making sure my hair is perfect."

"We should all be so lucky," Draco said, smirking at him.

They stared at each other, Harry still clutching the mirror to his chest and forcing himself to keep his eyes on Malfoy's face, until Goyle cleared his throat.

Malfoy spun around and began fussing over Goyle, plumping his pillow and tucking him in. They whispered together, voices too low for Harry to hear, so he slipped the mirror under his own pillow and sat on his bed. Watching them, he told himself, not the way that dressing gown clung to Malfoy's arse, or how Malfoy's long toes curled as he bent over Goyle's bed.

When Malfoy straightened up and withdrew his wand from a pocket, Harry said, "You don't have to use Silencing spells."

Goyle made an odd noise that Harry couldn't interpret. Malfoy turned to look at Harry. "It's no problem."

"We all have nightmares. They're nothing to be ashamed of." When Malfoy's eyebrow arched again, Harry could feel himself blush. "At least that's what my doctor told me."

"Not ashamed," Goyle muttered. "Don't want to annoy you."

"Doctor?" Malfoy perched on the edge of Goyle's bed. "Have you gone mental, Potter?"

"I'd have to be a little bit mad, don't you think? After having Voldemort living inside me for all those years."

"Ugh." Malfoy made a face. "Now I'm going to have nightmares."

And Goyle laughed. It was a rusty kind of sound, as if he had almost forgotten how, but it brought a quirky smile to Malfoy's face and made Harry grin.

He was still smiling when he drifted off to sleep, one hand on the mirror beneath his pillow.

o0O0o

Saturday morning's display was a bony ankle. Harry thought he saw a flicker of colour, dark green or black. He spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon wondering if it had been a tattoo and what it could be.

o0O0o

"We all know why we need to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts." Padma touched the scar that twisted along her jaw line with her fingertips. "That's not the problem."

"I agree," said Hannah. "It was nearly August before I wanted to use my wand for anything, never mind casting a counter-curse or a hex."

After an hour of going around in circles with the same argument, Harry was about ready to hex the both of them. And Malfoy for just sitting there and wearing socks, damn it. "What do you suggest we do then?"

"It used to be fun." Hannah sounded wistful. "I can still remember the first time I saw my Patronus."

"Exactly," Padma agreed, then her eyes got the same unholy light that Hermione got when she was reading _Hogwarts: A History_. "Don't forget the duelling club in second year. Harry and that snake were fascinating."

Malfoy sat up, showing interest for the first time. "That's it. You're brilliant, Patil."

"Of course. I'm a Ravenclaw."

"What's it?" asked Hannah. "I don't get it."

Harry would have agreed with Hannah, but it was bad enough that he _felt_ stupid in front of Malfoy without admitting to it.

"Duelling," Malfoy said, twirling his wand. "You and me, Potter. Up on that stage, showing them all how it's done."

"Duelling?" Harry repeated. "You think that will help everyone?"

"If you have fun, it will." Padma nodded. "Malfoy is right about that."

"Fun? Duelling with Malfoy?" More like a disaster, Harry thought, especially if he couldn't drag his mind out of the mirror.

"Yes, fun." Malfoy leaned towards Harry and smiled. "Think of it, Potter. You and me, up there, on that stage. It would be better than old times."

"We'd have to plan it," Harry said.

"We could help you with that," offered Hannah. "Come up with a list of the spells that we know people are having problems with."

"And show them that Defence can be enjoyable again." Padma smiled at Harry and Malfoy. "It will be like a dance."

Malfoy snickered and bounced to his feet. He swept Harry a bow and, with an elaborate flourish of his wand, conjured a red rose and presented it to Harry. "Dance with me, Potter?"

"Wanker." Harry laughed, but then giving into impulse, he stood up and accepted the rose. He wasn't surprised to discover that the stem had no thorns.

Placing the rose between his teeth, Harry held out his hands. They moved closer, until Malfoy was in his arms. Harry had one hand on Malfoy's hip, and Malfoy had a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't ever lead," Malfoy murmured into Harry's ear, sending goose pimples shivering across Harry's skin.

"I'm not very good at following, so we should be fine." Harry tried to flick his tongue around the rose stem and over his chapped upper lip. "And I've learned a lot since fourth year."

For a moment, as Malfoy stared at Harry's lips, Harry thought they might actually dance or do something, but then Hannah giggled and Malfoy stepped backwards.

"Should Potter cast the first hex or shall I?"

"I should," Harry mumbled, after removing the rose. "Otherwise, we might give them the wrong impression, all things considered."

Sprawling back into his armchair, Malfoy nodded. "Point."

"This is going to be such fun." Hannah rubbed her hands together. "Shall we start with having Harry conjure a snake to attack Malfoy?"

Padma shook her head. "Definitely the wrong impression, as would be _Expelliarmus_. Why don't we start with something completely different? Trip Jinx perhaps, or a Leg-Locker."

"Or we could begin exactly as we did in second year." Looking thoughtful, Malfoy traced the tip of his wand over his lips. "We'd need to omit the snake, given people's reactions, but we could definitely show that we've moved beyond it."

"That's actually not a bad idea," said Hannah.

The planning started in earnest after that, and by the end, Harry was looking forward to the duel.

o0O0o

Sunday night, after Harry and Malfoy had spent two hours practicing for their duel, Harry took a quick shower and then rewarded himself with a peek in the mirror. He locked his curtains and added a Silencing Spell just in case.

Malfoy, however, was in the prefects' bath. Water and clumps of bubbles lapped at his skin, revealing and hiding the section of thigh caught in the mirror's reflection. His muscles flexed as he moved, occasionally teasing Harry with a glimpse of short, curly blond pubic hair.

A splash obscured the picture briefly before it cleared to show Malfoy's hand again, sliding along his inner thigh, pulling his leg up, occasionally slipping out of sight to—

Harry's mind filled in the spaces that he couldn't see. He reached for his own cock with a lube-slick hand, imagining that those were his fingers sliding between Malfoy's thighs, caressing, touching, pressing inside him. He bit his lip, trying to hold in the sounds that he wanted to make, the words that wanted to spill from his mouth.

He watched Malfoy's hand dip downwards, saw his wrist bend, caught a flicker of Malfoy's other hand moving, a splash of water, and knew what Malfoy was doing. That thought and the image had Harry arching his back, thrusting into his hand, and coming in pulses that seemed to originate in his toes.

o0O0o

The next day, Harry was utterly distracted. He couldn't stop himself from stealing glances at Malfoy at every opportunity: in double Charms, across the Great Hall at lunch, and during Defence Against the Dark Arts. It wouldn't have been so bad, if Malfoy hadn't caught him almost every single time and _smirked_.

Harry was beginning to think that Malfoy _knew_ that he'd been watching the previous night. Although that had to be impossible, Harry was almost sure of it.

Still, the real trouble didn't occur until after his last class. He'd dumped off his books from the day and picked up his Transfiguration homework, and was heading down to meet Hermione in the library when the staircase he was on suddenly changed directions and swung him sideways and stopped on the third floor.

As soon as he stepped off, the staircase moved away. Cursing, he started walking to the next one that went up to the fourth floor.

"How does it feel?"

The question, asked in a vaguely familiar and decidedly nasty voice, caught Harry's attention. He pulled his wand and followed the sounds towards the Infirmary and then down a side corridor.

"Should I torture you like Goyle tortured us? Seems only fair, doesn't it?" Zacharias Smith muttered something, and Harry saw a blast of red spell-light leave his wand.

"Just do it," replied Malfoy. "I'll let you know how you compare to Voldemort."

Moving sideways, Harry was able to see around the students crowded behind Smith.

Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson stood in front of Smith. Goyle was huddled against the wall behind them, and Bulstrode stood beside him. None of the Slytherins had their wands out. In contrast to Smith and the crowd of third, fourth, and fifth year Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws crowding around Smith, who all had their wands trained on the Slytherins.

"Brave, aren't you?" Harry sneered, as he pushed through the students and went to stand between the Slytherins and Smith. "How many of you against five _wandless_ Slytherins?"

"They've got wands," Smith sneered back and the students behind him muttered their agreement.

"Do you see any?" Harry asked. "Because I don't. And even so, it's still unfair odds."

"They hurt us," a Ravenclaw girl whose name Harry didn't know called out. "That one, Goyle, he Crucioed people."

There was a chorus of "Yeahs", and Smith added, "They shouldn't be allowed to get away with it. Not after what they did. Someone has to punish them."

"And you think you're up to the job?" Malfoy's tone conveyed his scepticism.

Without turning around, Harry said, "Shut up, Malfoy. You're not helping." Then, he asked the Ravenclaw, "You really think they got away with something?"

She nodded, her brown hair bouncing.

"They're here, aren't they?" Smith raised his wand and aimed it at Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, they are. They were also here when the school was being rebuilt, _unlike you_. And most of them, at one time or another, helped me fight Voldemort. _Unlike you_."

The only response to that was a curling of Smith's lip and some restless muttering from the other students. So Harry stepped to one side, keeping his wand on Smith. "Have you looked at them? Any of you? Do they look like they got away with anything?"

When there was no response, Harry lost the last threads of his patience and his temper. He conjured an image of Voldemort as he'd looked during the last battle. There were gasps and at least one scream. "Meet Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. He made everyone's life miserable, and every single one of these Slytherins has faced him. More than once. Unlike Smith here, who had the privilege of running away."

A Gryffindor boy moved forward, giving Smith a disgusted look. "He didn't fight in the battle?"

"Nope." Harry shook his head. "Zabini and Bulstrode did, though. And Malfoy lied to a bunch of Death Eaters to protect me."

"Really?" This was another Ravenclaw girl. "No one told us that."

"You didn't ask," Malfoy said. "You just attacked."

"Draco saved my life, too," Luna came to stand next to Harry with Hermione and Ron behind her. "He defied Voldemort to bring me food when I was a prisoner."

"I think we should hex Smith," spat a Hufflepuff boy. "Lying coward."

Smith sputtered out denials.

"No," Goyle said, his voice shaking. "There's been more than enough of that."

"We all did things we're not proud of last year," added Parkinson.

"Yeah." Ron slid one arm around Hermione's waist and put his other hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know I did, and anyone else who says they didn't is either lying or called Harry Potter."

Regret welled up inside Harry, and his good mood disappeared. "I've done plenty of things that I'd rather have done differently."

"So, we're just supposed to forget about what happened?" asked the first Ravenclaw girl.

"No," Harry and Malfoy said at the same time.

Before either of them could continue, Hermione said, "You're supposed to be studying and learning and getting to know the students in every house and _not_ living through what any of us did. Once was enough." She swept her gaze across all of them. "Get back to your common rooms, all of you. Or I'm going to remember that I'm a prefect and start taking points and assigning detentions."

Someone objected, and Hermione looked at her watch. "Five seconds. One... two—"

The stampede of feet pounding against the stone floor drowned out the rest of her words.

o0O0o

The mirror was frustratingly blank that night. No matter what Harry tried, or where he rubbed the frame, it reflected nothing back at him. And when Goyle woke him up out of a nightmare where Harry had been stuck in a maze created from thousands of empty mirrors, Harry just nodded and told him that he was fine.

Neither of them mentioned the fact that no one came to investigate that night before they turned the lights back out.

o0O0o

A couple of days later in the library, right after Harry had all of his books he needed for his Defence essay set out the way he liked them, Hermione said, "So, you and Malfoy."

Pale skin and long fingers flashed in Harry's memory. "You're barmy."

"Should have seen it coming," Ron muttered, half to himself, and then grimaced as if he'd swallowed Bubotuber pus. "Could have been worse, I suppose."

"Sound and fury," agreed Luna, peering over the top of her book. "It usually signifies something."

"We haven't done anything," Harry pointed out. "We barely even talk to each other."

"Yeah, right." Ron laughed. "Even I'm not that thick."

Ginny gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and went back to whispering with Neville over her Herbology text.

"There's nothing," Harry repeated. "We're not even friends."

"Of course you're not." Hermione smiled at him. "We'll still be your friends, you know. Even Ron agrees, don't you?"

Swallowing hard enough that Harry could see his Adam's apple move, Ron nodded. "You'd have to work a lot harder than that."

There was remorse in Ron's eyes, and Harry knew that it meant Ron wouldn't turn his back on him again. Warmed by that, Harry changed the subject. "So, I'm doing the Not-Quite-Unforgivables for mine. What are you doing for yours?"

Hermione and Ron both started talking at the same time, and Harry smiled. He didn't once look over at the table where the Slytherin eighth years sat, doing their homework. No matter how much he was tempted.

o0O0o

That night, the mirror displayed the nape of Malfoy's neck. He didn't seem to be moving at all, making Harry wonder if Malfoy was asleep. Which got him thinking about whether Malfoy got nightmares and, since he probably did, what they were about.

Malfoy needed a haircut, which was possibly the strangest part. Harry had always thought of him as being immaculately groomed, but apparently not. The ends were ragged, and his hair was still damp and curling ever so slightly in towards Malfoy's neck. Had he taken another bath? The thought made Harry's cock decide to take an interest.

But even that surge of arousal couldn't overcome the desire to touch that soft hair and even softer-looking skin.

Harry shoved the mirror under his pillow and rolled onto his stomach, hearing Hermione's voice echo in his memory. _So, you and Malfoy._ And for the first time, he realised that she hadn't phrased it as a question.

o0O0o

Harry met with Padma, Hannah, and Malfoy every Thursday night after dinner. He hadn't remembered doing quite so much planning the first time, but Padma had obtained a trial NEWT test and there were lists of curses and counter-curses, hexes and jinxes, and all sorts of other things that Andrescu hadn't mentioned when he'd gone over what he planned to teach. He was an improvement over most of their previous Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, but not by anywhere near enough to make up for the years of badly taught classes.

Finally, though, by the first Thursday in October, even Padma agreed that they couldn't cover everything. They planned the first meeting of the still unnamed club for the following Thursday night in October.

"I still don't understand why you didn't ask us to help," Hermione repeated for the umpteenth time as they walked to the classroom they'd been assigned for the club. "You wouldn't have managed anywhere near as well without us the last time.

Staring at her, feeling more than a bit wide-eyed with confusion, Harry mumbled something that he hoped sounded like enough of an apology.

Ron gestured sharply, catching Harry's attention, and mouthed, "She's hurt."

Understanding crashed into Harry like a Bludger. He touched Hermione's arm and forced them all to stop. When she turned to him, her lips pressed together and her foot tapping, he said, "I'm sorry. I would have asked you, but Vector said she wouldn't agree to it if it weren't an inter-house kind of thing. She said that she wouldn't support another Gryffindor club." He shrugged, still tasting the missing word 'Trio' on the tip of his tongue.

"We could still have helped." She tugged on the strap of her bag, and Ron nodded his agreement.

He'd hurt both of them, Harry realised, and he simultaneously felt guilty about that and annoyed that he wasn't allowed to accomplish something on his own.

Pulling Hermione over to the side of the hallway and making sure Ron followed, he decided to be honest. "It was my idea, all right. I went to Vector about it. I didn't mean to leave you both out, but you've been busy yourselves, and I'm not complaining about that. It's just—" he dragged a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before continuing, "I only know that I don't want to be an Auror, not what I want to do. And you both seem to know already. It's like this year is a step for you: an ending of school and a way into the future, to George's store and to the Ministry. But I didn't have any plans after Voldemort. Not really. So for me, it's more like a beginning, only I don't know what for."

There was a pause, just long enough for Harry to worry that he'd said too much, before Hermione said, "Oh, Harry," and hugged him. Ron clapped him on the back, and Harry dredged up a smile for them.

They were almost at the classroom when Ron said, "Just one thing, mate. Don't even think about letting Malfoy win. That would be dead embarrassing."

Instead of responding, Harry pushed through the door. He hesitated briefly when he realised that all the seventh and eighth year students were waiting on him before continuing on to where Malfoy, Padma, and Hannah were talking with Professor Vector.

"I was beginning to think you'd decided to forfeit." Malfoy smirked and spun his wand. "Not that I'd blame you."

"Never going to happen." Harry discarded the idea of twirling his own wand. With his luck, he'd drop it and make an idiot of himself.

"Now that Mr Potter has graced us with his presence, shall we get started?" Vector stepped up onto the duelling platform. "We shall observe the rules for demonstration duels set in the Convocation of 1452 as modified by the Huddle of 1792. For those of you who didn't take the time to research," she pinned her gaze on Ron, "that means no curses, hexes, or other spells that result in permanent injury. In addition, I will ensure that anyone who uses an Unforgivable is expelled and taken into custody by the Aurors. Am I understood?"

After everyone nodded or mumbled their agreement, she beckoned Harry and Malfoy onto the platform. "I'm trusting you both," she said, lowering her voice. "Do not let me down."

"I won't," Harry said.

"I'll abide by the rules." Malfoy inclined his head.

His movements an exact match to Malfoy's, Harry brought his wand up before his face and bowed. He straightened up and muttered, "Scared, Malfoy?"

An unholy grin spread across Malfoy's face. "You wish."

Vector clapped her hands. "Twenty paces, gentlemen. Take your marks."

Turning his back to Malfoy, Harry took the correct number of steps. When he stood on the line set for him and turned to face Malfoy, a green flare went up, matching the one that glittered around Malfoy.

"On my signal." Vector went down the stairs and a one-way shield rose around the platform, allowing the observers to watch the duel but preventing Harry and Malfoy from seeing or hearing anything except each other.

A white handkerchief fluttered down between them.

Ducking Malfoy's _Everte Statum_ as he hadn't managed to do in second year, Harry yelled, " _Rictusempra!_ " and smiled as the silver spell light sent Malfoy to his knees, giggling.

But then his legs were dancing from Malfoy's _Tarantallegra_ , and the duel was on.

" _Impedimenta!_ "

Harry jumped, and the curse flew beneath his feet. He was still in midair, when Malfoy's _Incarcerous_ bound him with conjured ropes.

"Got you, Potter." Malfoy laughed and sent a jet of purple light at Harry.

Rolling around to avoid Malfoy's spells, Harry cast a nonverbal _Finite_ and then severed the remaining ropes with _Diffindo_.

"Come on, Potter. Surely you can do better than that."

"Got to make it look like an even match, don't I?" Harry waved his wand in a Lockhart-like flourish. " _Silencio!_ "

"Missed me!" Malfoy yelled and then cursed when his foot was yanked up by Harry's _Levicorpus_.

While Malfoy was dangling upside-down, Harry cast a Jelly Fingers curse to distract Malfoy, who fumbled to keep hold of his wand, and then he yelled, " _Finite Incantatem!_ "

Malfoy aborted his fall by somersaulting in mid-air, which distracted Harry enough that he nearly lost his own wand to Malfoy's _Expelliarmus_.

After that, the duel became more serious. There were no more pauses or laughter. They dodged, danced, cast, and started using _Protego_. Harry was aware of nothing but the rainbow of light that flew between them. Red, purple, yellow, and silver — some seeming to combine and form new colours as the spells rebounded off their shields.

Then, just as his Stinging Hex caught Malfoy's arm and Malfoy's _Immobulus_ brushed Harry's ankle, the handkerchief rose into the air and exploded in a shower of red sparks that absorbed all of the active spells.

"At ease, gentlemen." The shield around the platform dissipated as Vector stepped through it. "Shake hands and make your peace."

Hobbling towards Malfoy, Harry tried to shake the numbness out of his foot. Malfoy was rubbing at his elbow, but walking just fine. His eyes were alight with adrenaline, and his lips curved into a smile that made Harry want to smile back.

"Good fight," said Harry.

"Likewise."

Malfoy's hand was as sweaty as his own. His clasp sent a shock of heat through Harry, and the same was happening to Malfoy, from the way his eyebrows rose.

"Interesting," Malfoy murmured.

But before Harry could find out whether it was the good kind of interesting, the other students had swarmed the platform and Vector was offering potions and healing spells to heal their wounds.

o0O0o

Water beaded on the glass door and ran down in lines that cut through the steam, allowing Harry to glimpse the long, pale body beneath the shower. Malfoy's arms rose, he turned, and streams of soapy water slid down his back and over his arse.

His lovely arse with muscles that flexed with every movement.

Pushing aside his towel, Harry reached for his cock. He licked his lips and cupped his hand, thrusting and imagining the cleft of that arse around his cock.

"Malfoy," he groaned as he tugged on his cock, but that tasted wrong in his mouth, so he tried, "Draco."

As Harry's hips rose, as he rubbed a thumb over the head of his cock, Draco turned around and Harry could see that he had his hand on his own cock.

And Harry came, spurting semen all over the mirror.

o0O0o

"What you got there, Potter?" Goyle sat down on Harry's bed with a thump that made the mirror bounce away from Harry.

Goyle, of course, picked it up. He frowned at it, apparently trying to remember something, and then his face cleared. "Here, Draco has one just like this."

"He does?" Harry snatched his mirror back.

"Yeah. Said he got his from his mother. Didn't do him much good, though." Goyle scratched the back of his neck. "Needs a second one, doesn't it?"

 _He'd known._ Anger flushed through Harry as he wondered whether Malfoy had been able to see him. Whether he'd laughed at him all those times. Whether he'd seen what Harry had done that night after the duel. He ran a hand over the frame, calming himself, and asked, "It does?"

"Well, my dad's did, although his was a Goyle one. The Blacks' mirrors could be different."

"I suppose." Resting the mirror in his lap, Harry brushed a hand over the glass, but it remained stubbornly dark grey. Like the walls of Hogwarts, he realised, and felt like even more of an idiot for not working it out sooner.

"Where's Malfoy right now? Any idea?"

"Over by the forest, I think. He said something about needing some Cackling Crysanths and Frigid Frangipani for his Potions project, and Longbottom offered some of his."

"Neville?" Harry tried to remember where Neville was growing the plants for his Herbology project. "In the new greenhouse? The arctic one?"

Before Goyle could answer, the warning bell rang for dinner, and Goyle got up. "Gotta go," he said. "It's steak and kidney pud tonight, and hamburgers and chips. Oh, and there's Black Forest gateau with apple pie and cheese and jammy tarts for afters."

Harry's smile lasted until Goyle had left the room. Then, stuffing the mirror in his rucksack, he slung it over one shoulder and went after Malfoy.

He returned Neville's and Ginny's waves as they passed on the path, but didn't stop until he reached the arctic greenhouse. He peered inside, but couldn't see anything for the frost that bloomed on the inside of the windows. Not even breathing on the glass and rubbing at it helped.

Pushing on the door, he stepped inside. His breath plumed white in the air, and he shivered. His robes weren't thick enough to keep him warm, but he drew them tighter anyway, and headed down the aisle to where Malfoy was leaning over some plants.

"Malfoy!"

"Potter." Malfoy greeted him with a smile, turning around and dusting off his hands.

"You're a right bastard, you know that?" Harry pointed his wand at him.

Malfoy glanced over at the opposite counter, where his own wand lay, and then spread his hands. "Whatever it is, Potter, I didn't do it."

"Oh, but you did." Harry pulled his rucksack around and dug out the mirror. "You're the only one who could."

"Ah."

"That's all you have to say? Ah?" Putting the mirror away again, Harry moved forwards until the tip of his wand dug into Malfoy's chest. "Did you have a good laugh? Maybe share it with Parkinson and the others, so they could laugh at me, too?"

"No." Malfoy emphasised his denial with a vigorous shake of his head. "I didn't even know you had the other mirror until I saw yours."

"And I'm supposed to just trust you? Because you say so?"

"How am I supposed to prove it? There's no Pensieve handy, and I'm not about to let you rummage around in my mind. Not unless you've got a Legilimency license to show me?" Malfoy paused before reaching out to hold Harry's wand hand. "If we go back and ask them, it's as good as telling Pansy. And she's rubbish at keeping her trap shut."

"What do you want me to do then?" Harry could hear the pleading note in his voice. "Got any brilliant suggestions?"

"Trust me," Malfoy said, pushing Harry's wand hand to one side. "Just trust me."

Malfoy's lips were warm and his tongue even warmer. A shiver wracked Harry's body, and he crowded into the heat of Malfoy's body, encouraging him to sit on the bench and moving into the space between his legs.

"Fuck, Potter, you're freezing."

"Warm me up?"

"Not going to happen in here," Malfoy said. "You're just making me cold. Come on. Let's go some place where we can both warm up."

On the walk back up to the castle, they shared Malfoy's cloak and kept their arms around each other. Harry stopped once, wanting to ask what they were doing and why, but Malfoy shook his head and kissed him again.

o0O0o

"Malfoy, we are going to have to talk some time," Harry said, unable to take his eyes off Malfoy's arse as he bent over to add hot water and bubbles to the eighth year bath.

"Of course we are," Malfoy agreed. "But first you need to start calling me Draco... Harry."

"All right." The clunk of Harry's rucksack hitting the floor reminded him of why he'd gone to seek him out. "I want to know, _Draco_ , why you used that mirror to fuck with me."

"Not fuck _with_ you, Harry." Draco sauntered towards him. "Flirt with you, definitely." He pulled his jumper over his head and tossed it to one side. "Get your attention, absolutely." He stopped right in front of Harry and licked his lips. Then, with barely a breath between their mouths, he murmured, "But never fuck with you. I'd rather be fucked by you."

Their next kiss was all tongue and teeth, want and need. They tore at each other's clothes, yanking them off and down, even resorting to Banishing the laces of Harry's trainers when they became hopelessly knotted.

They sank down on the piles of thick towels next to the bath. Draco's legs wrapped around Harry's hips, their cocks touching with a shock of heat and arousal.

"Draco," Harry said, revelling in the feel of the name on his lips as he alternately nipped and sucked at Draco's jaw and neck.

"Harry," replied Draco. Then he dug his hands into Harry's hair and yanked him backwards.

"Ow. Let go."

"Lube, Harry. Or we're not going any further."

 _Lube?_ Harry looked around and settled on one of the taps with a grin. Cupping his hand, he turned on the tap and filled his palm with oil. "Will this do?"

"For a wank." Draco wrinkled his nose. "I'm not having that smelly stuff inside me. I've got standards to maintain."

"Standards?" Harry stroked his oily hand over Draco's cock and around his bollocks, pressing a fingertip against his perineum. "You sure about that?"

Draco arched back and thrust into Harry's hand, hissing, "Yes."

"Shall I stop then?"

"You do, and I'll remember all those curses I learned as a kid."

"Promises, promises." Harry kissed him, reaching down between them and getting a grip on both of their cocks.

Draco's hand joined his, twining their fingers together around their cocks, and he forgot every word he knew in the biting, licking, sucking of Draco's mouth, in the squeezing, tugging, sliding of their cocks.

Huffing and moaning and panting into Draco's mouth, Harry slipped his other hand under Draco's thigh and rubbed a finger down the cleft and over the pucker of his arse.

"Ngh," The groan echoed around the room as Draco began to writhe beneath Harry, pushing against his finger.

Harry moved his hand faster and faster, pumped his hips harder and harder, matching Draco's thrusts. He came, bare seconds before Draco, breathing Draco's name into his mouth.

Unable to stop himself from grinning, Harry kissed Draco once more and then rolled off him. He wanted to lie beside Draco and take his time, to rediscover the emerald in his ear and the tease of colour around his ankle — except he forgot about the bath and rolled right off the edge and landed in the water.

He rose to the surface, spluttering and splashing, to see Draco lying on his side, head resting on one hand, snickering. "You better get in here, Draco, or I'll drag you in."

"If you insist." Draco swung himself around and dropped into the bath, landing on his feet. "Although, I don't want you thinking I'll always be this compliant."

"I hope not." Harry grinned and reached for him. "That would be dead boring."

o0O0o

Later that night, after Goyle began snoring, Harry retrieved the mirror from under his pillow and said the activation phrase that Draco had taught him.

"Night," he whispered when Draco's face appeared.

"Night." Draco smirked at him. "Sentimental idiot."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "That's me."

"Wanker."

"Pillock."

"Go to sleep, Harry."

"Hogsmeade tomorrow, right?"

"Right," Draco agreed. "Now go to sleep. You'll need your energy tomorrow."

And then Draco pressed a kiss to the other side of the glass, and the mirror went dark.

"You, too," Harry promised, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

~fin~


End file.
